


silver and gold

by ElasticElla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/F, Femslash February, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9918800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: The found wolf wakes up with a gasp, spitting out seawater, and turning bright amber eyes on her. “Who- I wasdead.”





	

Luna has always enjoyed trips to the states. The entire western hemisphere didn’t tend to use wands, went to emotions before logic, a far cozier way of doing magic. In keeping with traditions, for few were worth keeping indeed, Luna’s wand is in her pocket, her hands cupping her yellow-gold magic. It looks nothing like her aura like this, nothing like it does coming from her wand. She hasn’t decided if it makes it more or less like her, of which magic is True. 

(Both. The idea echoes and is pleasing, but many pleasing ideas do not hold true.)

Her magic is lazy today, content to wait in her palms. She takes them away, hands breaking apart with fingers spread, and she wills her magic into the wind. For it to follow the buttenbas, to tell her of anything near. Buttenbas were nearly worked to extinction centuries ago, cruel wizards and witches insisting on finding the fountain of youth. (Luna knows it is here, not here but on this land. There are too many warlocks with auras of old, and perhaps she’ll find it one day. Perhaps not, eternity never helped her kin.)

One buttenba comes back to her, flying in a swerving pattern, and Luna follows them back, wand in hand. Sure enough there’s a dead body, but Luna relaxes as she puts up a few quick wards to keep muggles away. 

“She’s only mostly dead,” Luna says to worried buttenba, who lands on her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here, but it won’t be any good for you to stay- we both know what’ll happen when she wakes.” 

The buttenba’s tiny claws grip her shoulder tightly for a breath, acknowledging her words before flying away. Healing spells aren’t her specialty, but werewolf healing spells are another matter- she’d saved Lavender and Lupin by healing the wolf first, letting the wolf heal their human halves. She smiles as the girl’s shirt directs her, _smile if you’re a lesbian_ , strengthening the tiny bond they have so her charm will set better. 

Luna sings the charm, wondering what may come of it. Lavender had made her a bridesmaid at her and Parvati’s wedding, didn’t even mind her radish earrings (charmed silver to match). Lupin had nominated her for Flemming’s Fair Folk of February award, earning her a year’s supply of Honeydukes chocolate. (The Hogwarts house elves had always worried over the scrawny professor, were more than happy to help her in slowly sneaking bars into his stash.) 

Perhaps she’ll get a friend. It’d be nice to have a new friend, one less touched by the war. Luna understands why so many have drunlings whizzing about their heads, dragging down their hearts and minds, doesn’t fault them for it. But she wants to enjoy herself, wants to do more than survive- it’s easier to remember that outside of England. 

The found wolf wakes up with a gasp, spitting out seawater, and turning bright amber eyes on her. “Who- I was _dead_.” Her hands feel her own neck suddenly, a suspicious look on her face, “What did you have to do to me?” 

Luna bares her teeth wide, lips curled back. “I’m a witch, not a vampire. And you weren’t dead dead, only a little.” 

“Gretel!” someone exclaims, running towards them. Luna looks to the newly woken white haired wolf, eyes lit up, and drops the wards, slipping her wand back in her pocket. 

“You’re alive, thank god, I heard- it doesn’t matter. Let’s get you back and some food in you.” She hugs Gretel- also a werewolf, scratches on her neck- and Luna is glad her pack is nearby. Werewolf packs are supposed to have daedrus nearby, and Luna has never seen one. It wouldn’t be quite as good as friendship, but beggars and choosers and new Quibbler articles. 

“C’mon Goldilocks,” Gretel says, “you can explain what you did over a burger.” 

The new one notices her then, saying as they walk, “You found Gretel. You have the pack’s gratitude, I’m Maia.” 

Smiling, she answers, “I’m Luna. But a buttenba found her, I followed.”

“A bu- what found me?” Gretel asks. 

“A buttenba,” Luna says earnestly, “they’re native to coastlines, can live wherever mosquitoes do. They’re undetectable except for slight magical traces, they used to be fully visible.” Luna swallows, “But they were hurt to near extinction, and now they don’t often show themselves.”

“Is there anything we can give this, creature?” Maia asks, and she doesn’t seem mocking or cruel, her words matching her face. 

Luna smiles, “No, gifts offend them. I have already thanked them.” 

They make it to a restaurant, Jade Wolf, and Luna follows, her eyes feeling attacked by all the new auras. Werewolves had particularly strong auras- Lupin hadn’t quite believed her, Lavender thought it was related to the sight. Luna hasn’t decided yet, blinking a few times to keep all the jeweled tones from overwhelming her. She focuses on Gretel’s silver, that’s easy- almost amusing, almost tragic for a wolf to have a silver aura. 

“You said I was a little dead,” Gretel says as they sit at a booth. Maia leaves to get food, and while it’s just the two of them at the booth, Luna knows all are listening, tries to ignore the pressure. (It feels like being in class again, try to use words they’ll understand. Try to think within the box, don’t lose more housepoints.)

Luna nods, “Your human half was dead, revivable, not too far from your body. Your wolf wasn’t though, so I healed her and she healed the rest of you.” 

A glass shatters somewhere, and Luna bites her lip, “It isn’t necromancy, I swear. I’ve helped two werewolves before with this charm, it hasn’t shown any side effects.” 

Gretel’s smile is small, all the more precious for it, her white hair falling forward. “I believe you. Thank you.” 

Luna’s stomach is warm, heat washing over her. Gratitude. Somehow she hadn’t thought of that. 

Gratitude ends up needing to be more concrete, the pack leader Luke pushes for this. Gretel privately tells her it’s because he doesn’t want the pack owing anyone he doesn’t know, hopes she won’t be offended. Luna isn’t. She’s known far worse actions from far better people- or perhaps they never were- but she’s accepted far worse decisions for lesser reasons. This is rational, and there’s a little greedy voice that insists she takes this. 

So Luna asks for a place to stay, says she’ll also help with any defensive magic they might need, offensive conditionally. She thinks it’s too little at first, sees Luke’s wide eyes and backtracks. 

“I’m not the best at potions, but given time I can make most?” 

“Kid, you’ve already offered too much,” Luke says, “there’s a spare room in the back- it’s yours. It’s not that much, but we’ll throw in food and drink.”

Luna smiles, Luke’s emerald aura might be the purest she’s ever seen. “I have magic, redecorating comes easy.” 

Gretel snickers, “C’mon, I’ll show you. There’s two rooms back there, I have the other roomie.” 

The room isn’t that small, and Luna expands the bag from her pocket, resizes her clothes and journals, puts them away. It only takes a few minutes to make the room feel more like home, Gretel watching from her bed, her silver flicking like a flame. 

“Where are you from? I’ve never seen a warlock like you.” 

“Across the ocean,” Luna says. “It’s a cold place, more battle and death magic, less restraining or trapping.”

Gretel nods slowly, weighing her words. “Do you have to go back there?” 

It’s a question Luna has tried not to ask herself. She _should_. There are friends and the paper, a legacy to repair and distant relations that never wanted to talk to her before. 

The answer bubbles to her lips like champagne, giddy and impostor adult feeling, “No.” 

Gretel grins, her shoulders relaxing. “Good. Let’s eat, Maia should be done on the grill.” 

Luna cocks her head, “Can’t you tell?” 

Gretel’s eyes dance, “Mhmm, but Maia likes to overcook meat.” 

Luna laughs, and they head back out to a booth. Maia joins them quickly enough with three burgers and a quip about tending bars. 

. 

Luna is happy. It takes longer to recognize the carefree feeling than anything else, how very easily she slips into Luke’s pack as a… consultant? She helps most often with healing in the serious cases when the wolf can’t heal quickly enough or is stopped somehow. Her evenings are often at Maia’s bar, where she has gotten to know much of the pack better and even met some other downworlders and warlocks. (She tries not to judge the shadowhunters, but those in her country did the bare minimum to stop Voldemort, and she doubts these ones would have done more.) One particular night, Gretel insists on her learning how to play pool. 

“I can’t keep watching her fail-flirt with blondie,” Gretel confesses once they reach the table, sticking her tongue out to the bartender whose aura just sparked. 

Luna’s setting the balls up how they wish to be ordered- which she finds out, is wrong. 

“It’s fine, next time we’ll go traditional,” Gretel says. “Wanna try breaking?” 

Luna’s gotten this far from watching what other people did, but actually hitting the ball into the others is harder. The triangle spreads the tiniest bit, and Gretel puts them back together swiftly, bringing the cue ball back. 

“Okay, let’s start with your grip.” Gretel talks technicals for a bit, and Luna is distracted by her silver, can’t quite get a read on it. 

“Here,” Gretel says, leaning over her to line up her hands properly and demonstrate moving the stick. A flush burns in her cheeks, and she dares another peek behind her. 

“Oh,” Luna says, finally recognizing the flicker in her aura. “You’re attracted to me. I didn’t realize.” 

Gretel’s eyebrows arch, voice flat, “Is that a problem?” 

Luna blinks, “Why should it be?” 

Gretel doesn’t have a response, but saphvals are shivering on her arms, giving Luna the confidence to lean in. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” she says. 

Gretel mouths, ‘Okay’, sound lost and Luna kisses her until their hearts are in tandem.


End file.
